Jaye Marie and Anita Dawes

Spring hogs the word ephemeral with it’s wildflowers, ponds and streams that are here one day and gone the next.

I never hear the word ephemeral applied to winter but it should be. Those delicate flowers of spring have nothing on the changing moods of a winter day.

Grey snow fall to brilliant sun.

Snow that bites as it flies out of the sky can turn to softly falling frozen glitter in the span of moments.

Hoar frost that melts away with even the lightest touch of the low winter sun.

And ever changing blue shadows that crisscross the woods.

Spring may have flowers that come and go and storms that are here and gone again but there is nothing that can compare with the ephemeral nature of a winter day.